


Go West (Life Is Peaceful There)

by callmedok



Category: IT (1990)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drinking & Talking, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Summer, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25837909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmedok/pseuds/callmedok
Summary: Eddie gives their car a once-over on the weekend, and they end up having a drink by the pool side. Richie's a big ol' sap in love.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Go West (Life Is Peaceful There)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been staring at this for a few weeks, and tbh it's not gonna get any more finished than this! I showed this to some friends and they called it 'tenderly horny', so there's that to take into account I guess. It's just mindless fluff on my part set during a summer day in California, and them being goofs.
> 
> Anytime I have a guy make a 'self-made man' joke, know from the depths of my heart that means they're trans. I didn't feel like it was enough to tag cause it's blink and you'll miss it, but it's there.
> 
> Title comes from Go West by the Village People, and here's some links to the poolside lounging mix I made on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/36sN9gwQq8U2LqCv0o4HQE?si=OdPaEVwtQhOm1Lxp0DGshg) and [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFTqXjT-MDRxEQfKdcfLYcjLUJQjIOE1f). I keep making mixes because I have no restraint and the reddie brainworms are always lurking.

“I’ll remind you, I am _very_ much a self-made man, honey,” Eddie teases as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing some well-defined arms. Richie’s mouth goes a bit dry then, watching Eddie do it with quick neat turns and nimble fingers. God, he loves how focused and precise Eddie can get on things like this. “I know my way around an engine or two.”

“Eds, sweetheart, I wouldn’t think anything different.” Richie replies, leaning against the door frame to the garage as he watches Eddie pop the hood and lean over to inspect the latest thing to fix. He hasn’t even had time to put on gloves to pick things apart, and Richie can see every flex of tendons in the back of his hand, the way his wrist moves as he touches things lightly.

Richie wants to eat him alive, just a little. Wants to press himself up against Eddie’s back, curl his fingers through some belt-loops, and kiss his way down the back of the other man’s neck.

It’s a relatively new realization about himself, the fact that seeing Eddie in nice clothes with motor oil or grease or whatever on his hands does it for Richie. Revs his engine harder than Eddie behind the wheel of the El Dorado, and nothing but the open road ahead of them.

(God, how he loves seeing Eddie behind the wheel, sunlight in his golden curls, a big grin on his face as Kate Bush croons over the speakers. Richie could wax poetic on such a sight for _hours._ )

“Looks like just a top-off is what we need. I can get it done in… ten, fifteen minutes?” Eddie says with a slight shrug, using the clean back of his hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Should go quick.”

“As you say, Spaghetti. I trust you,” Richie replies, brushing his knuckles against the door frame before he pushes off of it. It’s not a knock-on wood kind of gesture, his faith in Eddie stronger than any foundation, but reassuring instead. The pressure is a gentle reminder that this is all real, something that’s actually happening. They made it out of Derry, and all the way to California. Had a chance to call this place home, and make it one together. Jesus, in his old age he’s become an even bigger romantic, who’d have thunk? “Need me to stick around, or good on your own for a bit?”

“Good on my own, but thanks, Rich.” Eddie says, turning just enough to flash Richie a quick grin. “Wouldn’t mind a drink after, though.” He props his hands against the front edge of the car, all long limbs and crisp angles as he turns towards Richie a bit more. “Maybe by the pool, if you’re up for it-?”

“Drinks by the pool, got it.” Richie says, clapping his hands together and then clasping them so the urge to go over and touch is reined in. If he sounds a bit like a show host presenting a prize, just a tad, it’s fine. “Sounds like a perfect Saturday, handsome. Don’t hesitate to shout if you need anything.”

*

Richie is lazing on one of the lounge chairs when he hears the slider open, and perks up. He pushes his prescription sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose, taking an idle sip from his glass as his eyes roam over his partner. Pineapple juice and coconut rum, the taste of summer just as Eddie’s the face of it in a tropical button-up a size too big, legs long and lean in some rather ravishing shorts. Something in Richie’s heart flutters a little, seeing Eddie in one of his shirts.

He’s learned a lot of new things about himself, in the time they’ve shared together.

“Well _hello_ , handsome, come here often? I’d drop by the country club more often if I knew this was one of your haunts.” Richie says, Voice sliding the scale between Southern Belle and WASP Housewife and never quite settling in one camp or the other. It makes Eddie laugh though, loud and bright, and lift his own glass in a slight toast to Richie as he walks over.

“I drop by once in a blue moon, when my husband’s traveling,” Eddie replies as he settles on the other bench, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. He drops the word ‘husband’ casually, with an easy smile, and it’s sweeter than music. This close he smells a little like sunscreen and motor oil, even with his hands scrubbed clean of both.

It would be easy for Richie to close the distance between them. Set their drinks aside on the concrete, rest a hand on Eddie’s knee, and kiss him. Thread fingers through his hair, gently cup the back of his head, and taste pineapple on his lips. Richie takes another sip of his drink instead, wonders if he was a bit too heavy-handed in adding some of the cherry juice from the jar into the mix.

“Traveling husband? Ooh, tell me more, tell me more,” Richie says in a low kind of purr, some sultry thing with the threat of laughter bubbling up underneath it as he grins. He turns just enough to prop his elbow on the chair, setting his drink aside before resting his head on his fist as he looks at Eddie again.

God, his handsome summer man, with the cherry from his drink between his teeth and sun-drenched skin. The temptation to kiss him grows by the second.

Eddie lets out a soft huff of a laugh once he’s done with the cherry. Presses his hand against his cheek for a moment as he looks at Richie through his lashes, swirling his drink around in his free hand as if he’s got wine instead. It’s cute. “Well, what is there to say? I’m not one to kiss and tell, even if it’s a lovely man asking,” he replies with an air of nonchalance.

“How bout I do the kissing then? Sure would make things a hell of a lot neater, and I wouldn’t even tell. Scout’s promise.” Richie says before he can help himself, no Voice at all this time. He just wants to kiss and be kissed, take advantage of the lovely weather and the pleasant fuzziness that comes with their drinks. Why not jump into the deep end, live a little?

Eddie covers his mouth, hiding a grin into the palm of his hand. It’s easy to tell, with the way his eyes crinkle up at the corners. Richie feels a bit like a broken record, constantly finding something new about him to love, but it’s true. Everything he does makes Richie fall that little more head over heels.

Eddie singing under his breath to Whitney Houston as he does the dishes, lost in thought. How he sprawls on the couch with a well-thumbed western in hand, idly toying with a scrap bookmark. The way he laughs when they dance together in the living room, and Richie manages a successful dip.

( _Be my, be my baby, my sweet darling,_ Richie crooned, nuzzled at Eddie’s throat, and the other man had kept laughing with his arms around Richie’s neck, a warm solid weight to them that left his heart cracked open then and there.)

“Well, we could figure something out, I guess.” Eddie replies, playing demure for all he’s worth. It’s undermined by the way he looks at Richie though, a teasing glance that lingers, and, well. Richie’s always been weak for those lovely eyes. “It’d be a miracle if you were ever a scout though,” Eddie adds after a moment, grin big and wide, and Richie lets out a squawk as he sits up properly again.

“Slander, lies! I’ll have you know I was the best damned Budgie Scout Derry ever saw, none of them better than me-” Richie says, leaning closer to Eddie as he gets his story rolling off his tongue-

Eddie cuts him off with a kiss, swallowing up any potential Voice or backstory with the curve of his fingers against Richie’s jaw, a gentle nip to the bottom lip. He kisses in that quiet, focused way that makes Richie feel weak in the knees, happily abandoning a fledgling idea in order to thread fingers into Eddie’s hair. _Oh lordy,_ he’d gush if he could, clasping his hands to his chest as he’d swoon, _Mr. Kaspbrak, my word!_

But he’s a bit busy being kissed at the moment and, _really,_ sometimes that’s just got to take priority.

**Author's Note:**

> I have Just Like Honey on the mix cause when InkandOwl put it into a fic, it became linked to these guys 5ever after, that's all there is to it. The song Richie references when he's dipping Eddie is Be My Baby by the Ronettes because I am a simple sap. I made a note that the El Dorado is specifically the '73 convertible, which I'm not quite sure why I noted that down anymore! But it's there for your visual pleasure.


End file.
